If a Girl Falls in the Wood, Does She Make a Sound
by Kyermehtar
Summary: "Lauma Xylander, you have been found guilty of manslaughter and are hereby sentenced to two months unpaid labor in the lumber yards. At the end of those two months your name will be entered into the reaping 100 times."  The odds were not in her favor.
1. The Axe Strikes

"Would the Defendant please stand."

Objectively, the speaker was a handsome man. He had a dark hair with a widow's peak, piercing blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and a strong jaw. He stood on a raised platform in front of a small, but very crowded hall. He was dressed in somber colors and was flanked on either side by four persons, equally somber though rather less attractive. The crowd hung on his every word, fascinated by his beauty and the cruelty it magnified. His beauty was like a cobra, entrancing but dangerous and deadly.

A tall, well built young woman rose slowly to her feet and stood glaring at the Tribunal. The trial had taken weeks, dozens of witnesses were called, none of whom had actually witnessed anything. There had been no one there to see the crime itself, no one except this girl. The prosecutor had strained every nerve to convince the tribunal of her guilt and had surely succeeded. She had no beauty. Nothing in her features would soften a heart towards her fate. She had mousy brown hair that hung in lank strands to her shoulders, and there was a steely glint in her deep set, brown eyes. Her intense gaze caused more than one of her judges to flinch and look away. The horned viper in the center merely raised an amused eyebrow and continued with his proclamation.

"Lauma Xylander, you have been found guilty of manslaughter and are hereby sentenced to two months unpaid labor in the lumber yards."

A murmur of discontent swept through the court house. Lauma sneered derisively at the whispering crowd. Apparently they thought that a girl who kills her own father should be punished more severely than two months hard labor. Considering she already worked in the lumber yards and her mother made enough as a laundress to keep them from starving, it was a rather light sentence. Maybe this once she was actually going to catch a break, get her life back. But hope died when her eyes returned to the man with the gavel in his hand. Eryk Grayson was smiling evilly at her. She had never known his name before her trial, just that he had been a drinking buddy of her father's. That alone was enough to make her loath the very sight of him. She felt her anger spike as she realized that he was enjoying this. Whatever her fate would be, he wasn't in any hurry to shorten his moment of triumph. He didn't even bother calling for order, simply waited for attention to return to him. When he continued his voiced dropped to almost a whisper, milking the suspense of the congregation.

"At the end of those two months, Ms. Xylander, your name will be entered into the reaping one hundred times."

The crowd had murmured before, but this time it was chaos. Never had the reaping been used as a punishment before. Though, to be fair, there were also very few murderers eligible for the Hunger Games. Lauma felt strong hands grabbing her arms and pulling her towards the exit. Everywhere she looked there were Peacekeepers pushing through the melee, trying to disperse the crowd. She glanced back to the front and a haze of white hot rage settled over her at the sight of Grayson's self-satisfied smirk. With a mighty jerk she managed to free one of her arms and lunged towards the venomous toad of a man. All she got for her trouble was a dizzying blow to the side of her head and one last look at the bastard's smile before the darkness took her.

"Lala... Lala? Lala, can you here me?"

"Move over, I'm going to give her a..."

"...I don't know... internal bleeding..."

"...her right to die ... her old man... riddance..."

"How can you... anyone could see... beatings... "

Voices drifted in and out of her consciousness. Every now and then a few words would register before the blackness returned. Lauma fell into the void with open arms, welcoming the peace of oblivion... until the dreams came.

It was dark in the forest. Lauma ran swiftly and silently over the carpeting of pine needles. A lone owl hooted in the distance. The wind took up the cry and howled about her, trying to stop her, blow her off course. She kept on, for now she could hear the screams. Louder and louder until she could see the cabin, the light in the window that should have welcomed her home filled her with dread. The ground before her turned into a marshland. Every step sunk in to the hip as she struggled across the bog. Then there was a sickening thud in the house, the screams stopped as suddenly as they had begun and a cold laughter took their place. Lauma recoiled, trying now desperately to free herself from the mire and escape into the forest. The laughter was coming. Her father was coming. She felt the tears seep into the corners of her eyes. A dark shadow appeared against the light in the doorway. He walked towards her as if there was no swamp, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her out onto the cold, hard earth. He leaned his face down towards her and she was overwhelmed by the stench of alcohol and stale vomit. She tried to crawl away but her limbs had lost all power of functioning. "Look at me, you pathetic excuse for a girl!" Her eyes betrayed her as they snapped back to the face of her tormentor, ugly and distorted with rage. But it was not her father. It was morphing now. The nose was growing and curving, the brow was smoothed of it's many wrinkles, the eyes lightened and took on the hue of the sky after a storm. This lovely face was more hideous to her than any scarred, misshapen countenance of her imaginings. She felt it growing in the pit of her stomach, larger and louder and more desperate until she felt it ripped out of her throat and heard it with her ears. A long, violent, irrepressibly primal scream.

"Lala! LALA!" There was another voice in her ear now. A familiar, comforting voice and she latched onto it with her whole being. "Lauma, listen to me. You need to wake up. It's just a dream. You are safe in the infirmary."

Lauma felt the world righting itself once more. Her mind came out of the fog and into a blinding pain. She quickly exchanged her screams for moans as she fought the tears.

"It's alright Lala, you're back now. Grayson wouldn't let them give you anything for the pain, said it ought to be added to your punishment. I managed to sneak a little bit of the Albionix, but none of the good stuff. It won't help much."

"S'all righ ma" Lauma croaked awkwardly. Her lips were parched and her throat felt on fire.

"Oh thank goodness! Don't you talk anymore." Something cool pressed itself against Lauma's lips. "This is just water. Once you get this down, I'll give you the one with the medicine. Now listen, I probably can't stay long, they just let me in here because it was so bad, they thought you might be..." Mrs. Xylander trailed off from her morose train of thought. "Nevermind what they thought. You are a fighter and you'll out live them all. My brave little Lauma."

The soothing liquid slid gently down the girl's throat, relieving the agony of the raw flesh. Next came the medicine. It was a foul tasting concoction of different pills, ground up and placed in a cup of strongly brewed green tea. Lauma resisted the urge to gag. It was over quickly and the water returned, rinsing away the disgusting cure. Noises became indistinct once more and the arms of Morpheus beckoned.

"Don't fight it darling. Go to sleep. There's nothing more I can do for you here. The pain will be less if you are asleep. Shhh. "


	2. A New Beginning

It was just past dawn on an early spring morning. The sky was gray and a misty rain was falling as Lauma approached the Lumber yard. Cheerful bits of green could be seen peeping out cautiously, as if to check that Winter was truly gone for the year. The ground was clear and flat, covered in a perpetual layer of saw dust. Bundles of large logs stood waiting for the crane to lift them onto the train car. There was a dingy building beside the tracks. The sign was hanging lopsided from a single hook and most of the letters were illegible. It didn't matter though. Everyone knew the District Office of Forestry and Silviculture. It was there that Lauma was headed to get her assignment for the next two months of state mandated labor. A few people had arrived early for work and were lounging about, eating breakfast and chatting.

"Hey Xy!" One of the men called out to her. "I heard that you're going to be doing some pro bono work around here."

"Shut up, Haup, before I give you a better reason to keep your mouth closed." Lauma eyed her opponent menacingly until he dropped his gaze and she continued on to the OFS.

"What are you going to do, kill him?" This comment came from a stocky middle aged woman who was cutting chunks off an apple with her six inch serrated pruning knife. "You're the one who better watch yourself, or you'll be going to the Games this year as sure as logs roll downhill."

Lauma gritted her teeth and kept walking, curling her hands into fists as she went. She knew her odds were worse than most. With one hundred and seventy three eligible girls, one out of every fifteen slips would be hers. Still, she had only one more reaping to escape, then she would never have an entry again. She could live her life in peace. She could ensure that her baby brother never had to receive Tesserae.

"I give her five years before she takes to the bottle like her old man and starts beating the family herself." Haup took a long swig from his canteen to emphasis his point. Lauma's foot stilled on the step to the office. Her hands began to shake with her desire to turn around and ring the man's neck like the worthless chicken that he was. She was beginning to turn when she felt a gentle restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Ms. Xylander, I believe you have an appointment with me." Lauma nodded mutely at the Director of Silvan Affairs and pushed past him to the door. "As for the rest of you. You are not paid to lag about tongue wagging like the village sewing circle. I will not tolerate trouble-makers. I suggest that you finish your meals quickly and get to work." There was a flurry of activity as everyone in the group hurried to be somewhere else. Doing something that appeared productive. The DSA followed Lauma into the office and sat behind his large, ornately carved wooden desk. He motioned for his parolee to sit in one of the dilapidated chairs in front of the desk.

"Ms. Xylander, I must repeat to you: I do not tolerate trouble-makers. If you cause any sort of disturbance to the operation of this facility I will have you remanded to the state for further punishment. I will make every effort to ensure that you are not unduly tempted to break the terms of your release, but the ultimate responsibility falls to you. I can show no leniency in this matter. Do you understand the severity of your situation, Ms. Xylander?"

"Yes, sir." Lauma's eyes never left her feet. She had no desire to disappoint this man. She knew that his intervention at her trial, his commendation of her hard work and diligent attitude, had swayed the court to allow her a work release rather than a prison sentence. The very idea of being locked in a stone room, away from the sky, and the birds, and the trees, it made her shudder just to think of it. She allowed herself briefly to wonder how her life had gotten to this point. What it would have been like to grow up without the constant terror of her father.

"Lauma?" The gentle voice which called her out of her musings was nothing like the stern voice the Director had used moments ago. This was the voice of her Uncle Franz Kaiser. The family had officially disowned Ulrike Kaiser when she married Klaus Xylander, but Franz had always held a special place in his thoughts for his unfortunate niece. "It really is for the best. You know what they would do if they thought I was showing you the least bit of favoritism. Please, get through this for me, for your mother and little Wulf."

This time Lauma did look up. "I will do my best, Uncle Franz. I don't know where the temper comes from. I used to think all of my anger was about him, but now he is gone and the anger is still with me. There is so much wrong with this world, so much pain and misery and cruelty. Every little thing sparks a rage within me. I lit a fire to destroy my monster, and I have caught myself in the fire as well." Lauma looked back down to her hands twisting in her lap and spoke in a near whisper. "If you kill a monster, do you become a monster in its place?"

"No. But fires are not easily put out if you keep throwing on fuel. Find something that gives you peace and cling to it." With one last encouraging smile, the moment was over. Franz Kaiser was once again Director of Silvan Affairs and began to rummage though a stack of papers on his desk. "Your assignment is in Quadrant 9 with team Delta. Your team leader is Avery Witcombe, you will answer to her for the first month of your detention. You are dismissed, Ms. Xylander."

"Yes, sir." Lauma stood and headed out the door. She walked over to the Transport hub and looked around for the car labeled Delta. The car was hooked to a trailer carrying hundreds of saplings. That meant that this month she would be on planting detail. District 7 had 35 rotating quadrants of 25 acres. Each year one was harvested and another planted. Delta would not be the only team planting this month. Four other team cars were also sporting long trailers full of baby trees. Each team would be have 10 members and be required to plant five acres. A tall, wiry woman in her mid-thirties was counting the saplings in the trailer and checking something on her clipboard. There was no smile on her stern face, though there must have been one at some point to create the laugh lines around her eyes. Her long, dark hair was tied back into a tight braid and streaks of silver-gray were visible at her temples. She looked up as Lauma approached and nodded curtly.

"Are you the new recruit?" She waited for a nod and then continued. "I'm sure the DSA already read you the riot act, but no one ever died from hearing a thing twice. This is a team. We work as a team or we can't meet our quota. If we don't make our quota, our pay will be docked accordingly and I will personally see to it that you are placed in the stocks for a week. Is that clear to you, Logger?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"Good to hear. Hop on the tram. We'll move out in ten minutes, as soon as I've cataloged the seedlings." Avery Witcombe had a reputation for being tough as nails, but completely fair. Lauma knew that her only chance of making it through the next two months would be to prove herself to this woman. She sat in the last seat on the tram and looked back over the delicate little saplings. They had so much promise going into their new lives. They would be carefully planted by her team. Painstakingly guarded against disease and pestilence by team Alpha, the horticultural specialists responsible for the growth of trees to maturity. Then, when the axe finally fell, they would be transformed to take on new lives as tables and chairs, beds and wardrobes. Lauma wondered what would become of her after her cannon fired.


	3. Hard Work

"Is this seat taken?" Asked a girl with a perky smile, jumping up beside Lauma. "This is my first time out to the Quadrants. Ordinarily I help out in the office, but I begged so hard and I finally got permission to go out. I'm so excited to see to see where all the trees grow, it must be magnificent to see them while they're still alive. Imagine watching the first leaves of spring uncurl all around you. By the way, my name is Willow. I think I've seen you around the yard before. Is this your first time in the Quadrants, too? Probably not, you look so strong. No one would ever tell you that you couldn't handle work in Quads. You could probably take down a whole tree, all by yourself. Once I saw..."

"Don't you ever shut-up?" Lauma hated perky almost as much as she hated being directly insulted. Why did people have to be that ridiculously happy, and if they really were that happy, why did they have to inflict it on the rest of the world. Her first instinct was to squash the girl like an annoying bug, but then she remembered her promise to her uncle and centered her thoughts on the peacefully growing trees behind her. The girl already looked half squashed, her eyes darting around for a tactful escape. "I'm bothering you, aren't I. I'm sorry. Daddy says that I only ever talk this much when I'm excited or nervous about something. Also, I'm a morning person. My friend, Flax, refuses to talk to me until the sun has been up for over an hour." Willow paused. "I'm rambling again. I should probably sit somewhere else, in case I keep spewing random conversation."

"Look, you're welcome to the seat, as long as you don't expect to be instant best friends and chat the whole way there. I don't chat. And I don't have any friends either."

"Oh, that's so sad. Everyone should have friends. I bet..."

"You'd lose that bet, so save your breath. You don't know who I am, so don't pretend you know who I should be. This is as nice as I get, take it or leave it." Lauma was pleased to see the girl's mouth snap shut and a slightly hurt expression appear on her face. At least she wasn't the only one being miserable on this gray morning. After a few moments of blessed silence the vehicle sprang to life and they were underway. In the calm of the early morning, Lauma let the sights and sounds of the forest wash over her. It wasn't a proper forest, as each tree was carefully planted in its place. There was a symmetry and order that would never be found in nature. The changes between Quadrants were clearly visible. A uniform stand of pine would suddenly be replaced by an equally uniform group of deciduous trees. Each stand was separated by a narrow lane. The spruce trees in quad six needed to be thinned again this year. In the oak quad, a group was already at work painting white circles around the trunks to discourage ants from climbing up to eat the leaves. The papery bark of the stately birch trees rustled gently in a light breeze.

Lauma noticed Willow's barely concealed glee, as though she were seeing the most amazing thing in the twelve districts. They were just trees. What was there to be so excited about? Every once in a while the girl would go so far as to take a deep breath and open her mouth to speak, only to sneak a furtive glance at Lauma and hold her tongue. Lauma thought it was slightly amusing to see the girl struggling, she looked so distraught with all of her thoughts bottled up inside her head.

"Alright. Go ahead and say one thing. Just one, mind you, I'm not giving you permission to talk my ear off." The girl looked so relieved, it almost made Lauma smile. Almost.

"Did you see the hickory Quadrant? I think I saw a cardinal there. It was a very bright red bird and he looked right at me. He was sitting on one of the branches, very high up, I think he might have had a nest up there."

"It's possible, I suppose. I didn't notice." Lauma lapsed back into silence and Willow seemed more sedate for the moment. The trees continued to file by looking like regimental soldiers, each in their line, awaiting orders. Gradually the trees became shorter, until finally the cart pulled out into a clearing.

Avery Witcombe hopped down and hollered for attention. "Everyone out and gather round." Willow jumped out of the tram and practically skipped her way to Witcombe. Lauma followed without the pep, but with equal speed.

"Listen up. We're planting Red Pines this year. Alpha team has requested a well stocked stand, so the sequence is six by eight feet: six feet between trees in a row and eight feet between rows. That will mean nine hundred and eight trees per acre. I want straight rows, Loggers. Follow where the trenchers have laid them. Messerli, Klossner, Saller, Nagel, Specht, Xylander, and Zimmerman, grab a shovel. Holes should be nine inches deep, five inches in diameter. Everyone else, with me. We'll handle the seedlings. Move out."

By midmorning the sun had broken through the misty gray clouds. Many of the workers had stripped off their outer coats and sweat glistened on more than a few brows. Two rows of neatly spaced seedlings stretched out across the open field. A whistle sounded over by the cart.

"Water break." Shouted Witcombe. "Take fifteen minutes, then we'll finish another row before lunch. Our quota is one hundred and eighty-one trees today, that's five rows. If you want to be home before sundown, I suggest you keep up the pace."

Lauma flopped down on the ground near the cart. It was going to be a very long day. Still, it wasn't so bad. No one had the time or energy to bother her with frivolous conversation. The only sound in the clearing was the thump of spade against soil and the occasional chirping of a bird. There was a deep serenity that came from working with the earth. 


End file.
